The week has been long and arduous as she tries to keep up with everything that's been going on, and this is one of the very few moments of peace she's been able to enjoy. Finding Whitney in the lavatory, she takes a seat on top of the vanity next to the champion, placing a beer for her right beside her. "I have some wine stashed away for later," she announces, once she's seen the lavatory is otherwise empty, "So we can properly celebrate when you win the first task."
She smirks, taking the beer, and holding it out to clink with Margot's. "Cheers." She says with a half smile. "I think you mean if I win." She says, an eyebrow raised. "how'd you sneak this shit in here in the first place? Professor Evreux was an ex-auror, I wouldn't want to incur his wrath."
"No. When you win. I've done some digging on the other champions. Let's just say they aren't very strong contenders for the Cup," she smirks. She tips her head back and drinks a mouthful of beer. After attending so many royal affairs, she's got very high standards, so it's no surprise that she grimaces, finding it tastes like ass.
"The French girl - her whole life revolves around Witchagram. She's got the looks, but she doesn't have the brains. And the boy, he's nice and friendly, and he has the best grades of them all, right under you, but he doesn't live up to his potential," she pauses. "Durante is reckless and thinks before she acts. She's a try-hard and doesn't like being up in the air. Lawson's a no-maj, and though he's athletic, he doesn't have what it takes to win the Cup. He's got other motives for winning the Cup, and is heart isn't in it," Her expression sours when she reaches Hogwarts School. As fond as she may secretly be of Whitney, her male counterpart doesn't have the privilege of such emotions. "Thomas. He plays dirty. He's a serpent. He's smart and ambitious, calculative and malicious. But as long as you play his game and stay three steps ahead, you'll be alright."
She takes a long hard sip as she takes this in. "You're bloody brilliant. Honestly, you're brilliant." She says, "How will I ever repay you, my wise oracle?" She asks in a damsel-in-distress voice, with a smirk plastered on her face.
Margot's hormonal, bisexual ass takes it the sexual way, and Whitney's smirk is doing very little to discourage those thoughts. "I could think of a few things," The look on her face is carefully composed, cool and not giving anything away.
Margot places her beer down delicately, making a clinking noise as she does so. She's smirking, head tilted slightly as she studies Whitney's face with half-lidded eyes. And then she leans in and whispers, "I could kiss you."
All it takes are those four little words, and all previous hesitance to get involved with any of her favorite miscreants goes right out the door. She cuts the distance short, leaning in and pressing her lips against Whitney's.